


Have a Little Faith...

by AllHallowsEve



Series: Wincest Colored Glasses [35]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anger, Angst, Episode: s02e13 Houses of the Holy, Guilt, M/M, Magic Fingers, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Sexual Frustration, Shame, Wincest - Freeform, discussion of angels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:27:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22748590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllHallowsEve/pseuds/AllHallowsEve
Summary: Sam and Dean have a case that might involve angels.  They are at odds with each other about it.  Neither understands where the other one is coming from which causes a lot of anger and frustration.Season 2 Episode 13 as viewed through Wincest Colored Glasses.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Series: Wincest Colored Glasses [35]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1034354
Comments: 10
Kudos: 19





	Have a Little Faith...

**Author's Note:**

> I struggled mightily with this one folks. 
> 
> As always, this work is unbeta'd. So please point out any mistakes small or glaring, so that I can fix them and make this work better for everyone.

Dean watched Sam walking around the motel room getting ready to go out to the mental ward where Gloria Sidnick was being kept after her arrest. She was the second person in the town to say they killed someone after an angel told them to.

Sam had insisted Dean stay sidelined in the motel. Dean understood, even though he hated it, his face had been plastered all around law enforcement circles thanks to the most recent shape-shifter case. _God how he hated shifters._ But what he hated more was the idea of Sam working this part of the case alone, sneaking into a government run facility, but he finally acquiesced when Sam said with a hushed, frustrated tone, “I can’t handle it if you get your ass arrested again, Dean.”

After that, Dean kept his bitching to himself, at least for now. He had other things to think about anyway. The way Sam filled out the pristine white scrubs that he had gotten from the second hand store, for instance. His broad shoulders made the simple uniform seem intense and there was something about the yards of white fabric that made Sam seem even taller than normal. The clean brightness also made Sam’s skin look tan, in spite of how gray the light flowing in the windows from the cloudy sky seemed. Dean tried not to stare but he was finding it very hard to manage.

Once Sam left, Dean found that he could breathe a little easier without having to change his gaze every time Sam looked at him. Dean had gotten rock hard watching Sam’s ass as he walked out the door and as soon as he heard Baby growl out of the parking lot he walked over to the far bed and lined up a stack of quarters in front of the Magic Fingers machine. Dean shoved one in and hit the go button unzipping his jeans with his other hand at the same time.

Thoughts of Sam in his white scrubs filled Dean’s mind, then images of him taking those scrubs off of Sam pushed forward and he found a good rhythm. He knew he had quite a while before Sam came back and planned to take his time, but as he pictured Sam turning the tables on him and ripping Dean’s clothes off and shoving him down on the bed, he wasn’t so sure he would last. His mind barely got to the point where Sam pushed inside Dean before he came all over his hand and stomach. 

He should have taken the time to get fully undressed because now he had to change his shirt. He couldn’t be bothered to care though, it was the first time he had had a release in a while. Sam hadn’t let him out of his sight for very long since Dean had told him what that Agent Hendrickson had said about them.

He cleaned himself up and changed clothes. Turning on some tunes in his phone and putting in his earphones before clanking another quarter into the machine. 

That was how Sam found Dean a couple of hours later listening to Nazareth so loudly that he didn’t hear Sam come in. Sam tried to get Dean’s attention as soon as he walked in, but then realized Dean couldn’t hear him. Sam took in Dean’s prone body, head propped up, staring out into space, long legs taking up the entire bed, while the bed shook and caused Dean’s body to rock enticingly.

Sam’s thoughts instantly went dark with desire. He paused, taking in the sight only for a second before he caught himself, his forehead frowned and his mouth turned down in self deprecation, he could not stand around lusting after his brother and not expect to be noticed. He walked to the end of Dean’s bed and when his brother still didn’t realize he was no longer alone in the room, Sam hit his brother’s booted feet to get his attention.

Dean’s first words to Sam were praise for the Magic Fingers as he wiggled his own strong relaxed digits at Sam, who could suddenly not meet his brother’s eyes. Sam said after swallowing hard, “Dean, you’re enjoying that way too much.”

Sam looked around the room for anything to take his eyes off his brother laid out enticingly, crotch front and center, noticeably thrumming up and down rhythmically from the bed’s movement, as if begging for Sam’s attention. “It’s kind of making me uncomfortable.” 

Dean whined again about being bored stuck in the motel, asking Sam for more quarters. Sam told him emphatically he didn’t have any.

Dean came to stand behind Sam while he was washing his hands, a move he immediately regretted since Sam was bent over so nicely, but he had already started asking Sam how things went before he realized the mistake, so he leaned against the doorway as Sam stood up and turned around to respond. Sam answered Dean’s questions about the case, but Dean lost the train of thought, as his eyes roamed up and down Sam’s tall frame, as his brother was talking. His brows frowned as he realized that Sam had changed clothes before he came back. He wasn’t sure where or why Sam would do that, but didn’t think it was a good idea to ask.

He followed Sam back out into the main room as they discussed the case and how Gloria had been sure that the man she murdered was evil, yet Sam found no evidence to back that up. Quite the contrary, the man was even a churchgoer. Dean was sure she was just bonkers. Sam insisted it had to be something more up their alley than that since she was the second person in town to murder someone because an angel told them to.

Dean admitted that it was probably something but argued adamantly that it wasn’t an angel, stating emphatically that there was no such thing. Sam was shocked and told Dean that there was ten times more lore on angels than anything else they hunted. 

The bitterness in Dean’s voice, as he denied their existence yet again, surprised Sam and made Sam’s tone turn sad when he asked Dean why. Dean had a determination to his voice but his arguments didn’t really hold water with Sam and made him even more confused. Dean insisted that he only believed in things that he had seen with his own eyes, which Sam knew for a fact was bull because half the things they hunted they had never seen before they hunted them and came face to face with them. Dean contended that no one they knew had ever come across any angels or even heard of them being real. There was a negative bite to his inflection that Sam couldn’t wrap his head around.

Dean was convinced that this case was nothing more than a spirit or a demon tricking these people. He didn’t understand Sam’s insistence on following down the angel scenario as a real potential. Dean was going to go crazy if he didn’t get out of the motel room soon so Sam agreed that they would go check out Carl Gulley’s place since Gloria had said she had been given a sign by the angel at his doorway that he was the one she was sent to end.

When Dean walked up to Carl’s house, he noticed a Christmas angel decoration leaning against the wall. He couldn’t help teasing Sam about the ‘sign from above’. 

Sam sighed tiredly. Dean’s refusal to even consider there being something to this angel theory really rubbed him the wrong way and he wasn’t sure what the story was there with Dean but he knew his brother well enough to know there was something Dean wasn’t telling him.

The brothers found the side gate hanging open and went through it to check out the area. As they walked side by side, Sam noticed a set of cellar doors and it reminded him of something he had learned from his earlier interview. He told Dean, “You know, Gloria said the guy was guilty to his deepest foundations.”

Dean looked to Sam, saw how intently he was studying the doors leading into the bottom of the house and immediately picked up on Sam’s meaning, “You think she literally meant the foundation?”

They made quick work of the locks and walked down the steps into the dark. The room didn’t immediately scream anything untoward, but Sam’s attention was quickly caught by marks low to the ground in the back wall. He bent over to examine them and called his brother over. They watched together as Sam touched the area and pulled a fingernail out of the scratched surfaces. Without needing further discussion Dean walked over to where he had seen some shovels on the side of the room he had been examining and handed one to Sam before taking the other one up himself. 

Working together it took very little time for them to uncover the skeletal remains of a body buried shallowly in the dirt. Dean had to admit that whatever had led Gloria to choose Carl as her victim, had been right about his character.

***************************************************************************************************************************************************

Dean sat forlornly listening to the police ban radio wishing he had some quarters to make the bed vibrate. It was probably better that he didn’t have any, his need for his brother was becoming all encompassing and it seemed the more he gave in to his desire to jack off thinking about Sam, the worse the need became.

He sighed his frustration and sadness out in a huff but then heard keys in the motel lock. He turned to watch Sam walk in, and he couldn’t help himself when he asked “Did you bring quarters?”

Sam’s dick gave a Pavlovian twitch from the rush of images that filled his head as he looked from his brother to the Magic Fingers machine and back to his brother. He did his best to distract his perverted mind as well as his brother’s need, by throwing the food he had brought back at Dean. Sam’s pent up sexual frustration caused his tone to come out in sheer annoyance as he said, “Dude, I’m not enabling your sick habit.”

He moved to sit across from Dean on the opposite bed to hide the growing tent in his pants. He frowned at himself as much as Dean as he said accusingly, “You’re like one of those lab rats that pushes the pleasure button instead of the food button until it dies.”

Dean deflected the discussion and his behavior by telling Sam that he had news, but his brother said he had news too. Dean insisted Sam go first.

They discussed some missing college students that landed on Carl’s radar from his work at the library as well as the new murder that Dean had learned of from the radio.

Dean became defensive again as soon as Sam brought up the word angel, but then changed the direction of the analysis before it devolved into another argument by telling Sam he had gotten the newest victim’s address.

Sam’s breath caught in his throat as Dean cocked his head charmingly. To Sam’s Dean obsessed mind, Dean’s tone seemed almost flirty. Sam shook his head. He had to get out of this room, had to stop the visions of his brother’s vibrating body splayed out across the bed just feet from where Sam now sat. 

Sam was glad to feel the cold on his face and body as they walked out of the motel. What he needed was a cold shower but the chilly weather would have to do. They hopped in the Impala and drove across town to where Dean’s post-it indicated the newest victim lived.

As Sam’s feet crunched through the packed snow, down the alley beside the police tapped off house, he tried to focus on the task at hand, instead of his brother’s body only a few paces behind him. He tumbled up onto a dumpster to catapult himself up and over the high fence that surrounded the victim, Frank’s back yard, hearing Dean follow nimbly on his heels.

Dean watched as Sam skillfully opened the locked window with the pocket knife that Dean had given him for Christmas their last year together before Stanford took his brother away from him. It made his heart warm every time he saw it, realizing that Sam had carried it to California and back. Dean wished it was as much of a sign of his brother’s feelings for him as the amulet hanging against his own chest was for his feelings about Sam.

Dean searched the house as Sam investigated the guy’s computer for any indication that this Frank was a bad guy. Neither exploration found anything until Sam stumbled upon a locked file. It didn’t take him any time to crack the guy’s code and open the messages to someone named Jennifer. He informed Dean that it seemed Jennifer was only 13 and they were supposed to meet up today. 

The perversion of what was clearly on the dead predator’s mind made Dean feel his own ‘wrongness’ strongly. Dean stood up from where he had bent too closely to look over Sam’s shoulder. His brother’s scent was intoxicating, and he needed to concentrate on what they were doing. Guilt flooded him as he walked to the other side of the table from where Sam was still perched behind the computer.

Dean vocalized his confusion about whatever this entity was that was sending people to kill these bad guys. As he talked through his ideas about this spirit seeming to be a do-gooder of some kind, Sam looked up at him and snarkily finished Dean’s thought with “avenging angel?”

Dean rolled his eyes and turned away from his brother in frustration.

Sam’s voice rose in volume and aggression as he asked “Well, how else do you explain it, Dean?”

Dean threw up his hands in response, not having a better answer but not willing to agree with his aggravating pain in the ass brother either. He turned away, his eyes landing on a cork board filled with miscellaneous items from Frank’s life. It struck a memory in Dean’s mind about the other victim, Carl. He asked Sam what church Carl had attended. Sam struggled a moment for the name and finally remembered that it was Our Lady of the Angels.

Dean huffed his irritation, “Of course that would be the name,” as Dean turned the flyer in his hand around and showed Sam that it was the same church.

The brothers made their way to the church from the flyer to see if they could glean anything useful to help with this confusing case. They bluffed their way through an interview with the priest, Father Reynolds, and found out only pretty run of the mill stuff as far as confirming that the victims were parishioners there for years and that the neighborhood had run down somewhat. 

Sam brought up the fact that the murders had all said that an angel had made them kill. The priest described them as misguided souls and said how tragic that belief was. Dean tried to play the angel angle off but then Sam asked about a painting in one of the alcoves just off to the side of where they were standing. The priest explained that it was the image of the Archangel Michael with his flaming sword. He continued describing that he was a fighter of demons and a holy force against evil.

Dean cut his eyes to Sam as his younger brother’s tone took on a smug quality when he asked “So they aren’t really the hallmark card version that everybody thinks?

The priest spoke about his preferring to think of the loving side to angels but that there was scripture that spoke of them as God’s warriors. Sam glanced over at Dean, who looked back, refusing to reinforce Sam’s belief about the case, in spite of the fact that the priest began quoting scripture about how terrified people were when angels presented themselves to humans.

Father Reynolds walked the boys out of the church, without realizing the underlying silent disagreement between the younger men. As they were saying their goodbyes, Dean noticed a bunch of candles, flowers, and offerings gathered at the foot of the steps off to the side. He asked the priest what it was all about.

The older man informed them that it was for a former priest, Father Gregory, who had died on the church’s steps and was interred in the crypts there. He had been shot for his car keys only two months ago. Dean’s attention perked up even more when he heard the priest say he hadn’t had time to even give Father Gregory the last rites before he died.

It was Dean’s turn to smugly glance Sam’s direction when the priest described how he had been praying for deliverance from the violence around the neighborhood ever since Father Gregory’s murder.

Once the priest had gone inside, Dean told Sam how the case was finally starting to make sense. Dean explained that the priest dying a violent death could have turned him into a vengeful spirit, who knew all the parishioners’ deepest secrets because of confession.

Sam huffed and began looking around, not wanting to fight with Dean again about all this, but he was sure his brother was wrong this time. Sam took a deep breath before calmly suggested that it could be God intervening because Father Reynold’s had started praying for his help immediately upon the other priest’s death, which was right around the time all these murders began happening. 

Sam was standing a couple of steps up from the base of the stairs where Dean stood below him. Dean couldn’t keep the scorn from his voice as he asked in annoyance, “Oh, come on, man. What’s your deal?”

Sam asked him what he meant and Dean’s tone took on a harsh quality when he answered that he couldn’t understand where all this belief stuff was coming from with Sam. He kept pushing about how from the beginning of the case Sam was willing to buy into angels existing. 

Dean couldn’t keep the irritation from his voice as he asked, “What’s next? Are you gonna start praying every day?”

It was a throwaway quip he thought would end the conversation as he turned to put Father Gregory’s picture back on the makeshift altar, from where he had been examining it. Sam’s answer caught Dean completely off guard. In spite of how weird Sam had been about this case, Dean felt like he had been punched in the gut when Sam stated simply “I do pray every day.” 

Dean’s disbelief was plain on his face as Sam continued quietly, “I have for a long time.”

A shocked, huffing, almost laugh came out of Dean’s lips, as his eyes searched his brother for the joke. A cold numb ache filled Dean as he realized he might not know his baby brother quite as well as he had believed. He quickly hid the pain behind a bitter jab of “The things you learn about a guy.”

He looked his brother up and down, realizing he had no clue how much Sam might have changed while he had been at Stanford. Fear and uncertainty blossomed through Dean’s chest as he realized he had no idea how long Sam might have been praying, since ‘a long time’ could mean anything. 

Unable to hold Sam’s gaze upon him any longer without the pain becoming overwhelming he turned away from his brother to hide the fresh betrayal burning in his lungs. Dean’s tone turned flat as he suggested they go check out the dead priest’s grave. 

Sam waited a beat before following Dean back up the stairs. He was surprised he hadn’t suffered anymore grief from his brother than he had. Dean had been painfully obtuse about angels this entire case, so Sam had expected mocking teasing, or at least some kind of hard time from his brother, upon Sam’s confession about praying. The lack of it left him feeling off kilter and a little lost as his brother walked up the steps in deafening silence.

Sam quickly caught up to Dean, his longer legs making it easy for him to close the distance. Dean didn’t turn to look at him once as they made their way deeper into the church, sneaking into the crypt below the main area.

Sam was feeling a distance between them, even though Dean wasn’t even a foot in front of him, as they walked down the long hallway towards what they hoped would be the burial area. Sam was deep within his own thoughts as a strange feeling caught his attention. He turned to look at a praying angel statue that they had just passed and as he watched, the sculpture began to vibrate. He walked over to get a closer look and fear began a march up his spine as a presence behind him made itself known with a blinding light, that filled his soul with awe, stealing his breath.

Dean was completely engrossed in finding this dead priest’s crypt in hopes that they could solve this case once and for all and get the hell out of this town. He didn’t want to think about angels or Sam praying one more minute. He was so intensely distracted by what he had just learned about his brother that it took him a full two minutes of Sam’s absence for him to notice that his brother wasn’t with him in the crypt room. He went to the heavy iron doors that separated this area from the hallway and stuck his head out yelling as he did so, “Sam, come on, get the lead out.”

His eyes landed on his brother’s body, fallen limp and unresponsive in the middle of the hallway. The sadness and feelings of confusion he had been overwhelmed by was momentarily vanquished by fear as it filled his chest. He threw himself across the distance separating them, falling on his knees as he repeated ‘Sammy’ as if it was the only word left in his mind. He shook his brother and rolled him over onto his back.

Sam came to consciousness with a start, momentarily confused and dazed, as he gazed up at Dean. But then as he sat up he saw the statue above him and a smile stole across his face as he assured Dean he was okay. Dean grabbed him by both sides of the collar of his jacket and manhandled him up to his feet. Dean kept his hands on Sam the entire walk back up into the main area of the church, he couldn’t quite keep himself from touching his brother just yet.

Dean asked Sam if he saw what they were after. Sam agreed that he had, his voice breathy and still in awe of what he had encountered. Sam whispered, “Dean, I saw an angel.” He turned to face his brother.

As Sam sat down on the nearest pew Dean got out his flask and offered Sam a drink. Sam refused so Dean took a swig himself. His voice sounded sturdy, hiding how unnerved he was at the moment, as he questioned Sam about what made him think he had seen an angel.

The way Sam’s voice was breathless and awestruck ground onto Dean’s nerves. Sam was adamant that it was an angel because it had spoken to him and knew who he was. Sam’s whole body felt light as he remembered the peace that had washed over him. It was the first time in a long time that he felt hope that he might not be damned.

Dean tried to tease his brother but Sam was having none of it. Dean would not be convinced no matter how sure Sam was, Dean told him it was just a spirit. He assured Sam that spirits could sometimes read people’s minds, but Sam was sure he had been chosen to stop someone before they did something horrible.

That was more than Dean could take, bitterness flowed over him. He stood up from where he had taken a seat at the opposite end of the pew from where Sam was. He began pacing around. 

Sam got angry, his voice rose and was filled with frustration from his confusion at Dean’s refusal, “Dean, the angel hasn’t been wrong yet. Someone’s gonna do something awful and I can stop it.”

Dean turned on his brother, a harsh sarcastic bitter quality filled his voice as he said, “You know you’re supposed to be bad too, Sam. Maybe I should just stop you right now.”

Sam voice echoed in the quiet church as he questioned Dean about why he couldn’t even accept the possibility that Sam was offering.

Dean mocked him by asking, “What, that this is an angel?”

Sam’s forehead frowned with the effort of trying to get his point across to his brother. He was hurt and confused that Dean wouldn’t even begin to listen to what he was saying. All that pain began to turn to anger. He exclaimed to Dean that maybe what they were hunting was an angel and that they should stop, that maybe what was happening was God’s will.

Dean was suddenly tired. He didn’t want to fight with his brother anymore. He couldn’t stomach much more of this argument. He went back to sit down on the pew, telling Sam he understood that Sam had faith, that maybe faith made things easier for Sam.

Dean swallowed hard before he continued. “I’ll tell you who else had faith like that, Mom.”

Sam’s head turned towards his brother, his eyes sought out Dean’s.

Dean met Sam’s gaze for a few beats before it got too painful. He looked off into the distance as he spoke again. “She used to tell me when she tucked me in that angels were watching over us.”

The set of Dean’s jaw became hard as he watched his brother take in what he was saying. It got harder to speak, “In fact that was the last thing she ever said to me.”

Tears sprang into Sam’s eyes, guilt and shame blossomed in his heart, he had known something had been eating at Dean this entire case, but he had had no idea the root of it. 

Sam’s voice was soft but accusing as he whispered, his throat thick with emotion, “You never told me that.”

Dean brushed it off in a bitter cavalier way, “What’s to tell? She was wrong.”

He watched his baby brother as tears continued to form in Sam’s eyes. Dean tried to keep his heart angry and cold, but seeing Sam like this, vulnerable and sad, it made it hard for him to keep his walls up.

“There was nothing protecting her,” Dean felt himself falter as his voice broke over the pain he carried, “There’s no higher power. There’s no God.”

He forced himself to continue. He had to convince Sam to give up this belief. “There is just chaos and violence.”

Tears tried to make their way into Dean’s eyes, making his own voice quiver before he got himself back under control. “And random, unpredictable evil that comes out of nowhere and rips you to shreds.”

He pulled back behind the mask of bravado as a bitter grin pulled at his mouth before telling Sam that if he wanted Dean to believe in any of this other stuff, he would need proof, his tone became harsher than he meant because of how hard he was struggling to hold back his emotions.

Dean turned the conversation back towards a safer direction where he could firmly lock down the pain he carried, back into the hidden realms inside his soul. He told Sam that he had found proof they were dealing with a spirit, only minutely letting his voice sound as pompous as he felt in that moment.

Dean led Sam back into the crypt moving faster past the praying angel statute than he had the first time. Both brothers bent in front of Father Gregory’s placard and Dean showed Sam the vine of wormwood growing all over the area. It was a plant associated with the dead that aren’t at rest. Dean pointed out that it was only growing over Father Gregory’s marker and nowhere else.

Sam stubbornly said that he didn’t know what to think, that maybe it was Father Gregory, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that God was speaking to him through an angel. He wanted to believe it so badly that he couldn’t accept the tangible proof Dean was laying out in front of him.

Dean refused to allow himself to get mad at Sam. He knew he was right and he had another better more foolproof plan to prove it to his stubborn little brother. He told Sam his plan to summon the dead priest’s spirit with a séance and challenged Sam, saying that they didn’t have to go on faith in their job, that they could have proof.

Sam agreed reluctantly. The peace that had come over him from seeing the entity earlier was still trying to convince him that it was an angel. He wanted to believe that God would choose him. But he knew Dean’s plan would work, that if it was a spirit, it would show during the séance, and if Sam was right, nothing would happen. 

The brothers went to the closest bodega to get makeshift provisions from the list their dad’s journal lined out. Sam was teasing Dean about how they were using really sketchy alternatives for some of the ingredients when he noticed a man on the corner glowing brightly in the dark night.

Sam had told Dean he would be shown a sign but here it was right in front of him. Sam pointed the guy out to Dean, but his brother couldn’t see the sign Sam was being shown.

Sam moved to go across the street to get to the guy but Dean stopped him. Sam assured Dean he wasn’t going to kill the guy, that he was only going to stop him from doing whatever horrible thing got him on the list to be killed.

The guy made his way over to a car and started the engine. Sam begged Dean saying that they had to stop him before he hurt someone. Dean agreed, telling Sam to get in the car, but once inside the Impala, Dean refused to unlock Sam’s door. Dean couldn’t take a chance of Sam killing anyone. Sam was already convinced he was going to ‘go dark’ because of the yellow eyed demon’s plan. Dean would be damned if he let his kid brother go off on a mission, Sam mistakenly believed was from God, to kill someone before he even did anything wrong. Dean told Sam he would take care of the guy and instructed Sam to go do the séance. 

Sam watched powerlessly from the sidewalk as Dean drove off after the man. 

***************************************************************************************************************************************************

Dean kept Baby at a matching speed to follow the guy until he picked up a girl. The couple drove off and Dean continued to follow, determined to stop anything bad from happening.

***************************************************************************************************************************************************

Sam snuck into the church and made his way to the crypt. He was sure nothing would happen when he completed the séance but since he could do nothing else to complete his mission other than trust that Dean would do the job, he got to work setting up the ingredients in front of Father Gregory’s burial site.

He started to read the ritual from his father’s journal, but as he completed the last steps, dropping the herbs onto the fire of the black candle, he heard a voice from the open doorway.

Father Reynolds asked in horror, what Sam was doing. Fear and embarrassment flooded Sam. He stood up and told the priest he could explain, and then realized that maybe he couldn’t, not in any way that would convince the priest to allow him to continue. He tried the truth, telling him that it was a séance. The priest was outraged and Sam couldn’t blame him. He begged the priest to listen as the older man led Sam towards the door by the arm.

Before they could pass through the threshold, a bright light erupted behind them, back where the items were gathered for the séance. The priest turned in shock to look at the source of the heavenly light. He asked Sam if it was an angel.

Sam’s heart broke. His shoulders slumped and his face fell when he realized that the vision before him could only mean one thing, Dean was right. It wasn’t God speaking to him through an angel, it was the vengeful spirit of Father Gregory that had come to him and had instructed him, as he had done to three previous parishioners.

Sam’s voice was a sad whisper of certainty when he explained to the priest that it wasn’t an angel, it was just Father Gregory.

Father Gregory didn’t maintain the angelic form he had shown Sam earlier. He morphed from that visage into his true image of his body as it had been before he died. He told Father Reynolds that he was there to answer his prayers.

Father Gregory told Sam to hurry that he didn’t have much time to follow the path he had sent him on. Sam quietly told the ghost that he wasn’t an angel, that he was a spirit that needed to rest. The priest stubbornly continued to believe he was an angel, and explained his ascension when he died. That he had heard Father Reynolds’ prayers and that he had come to help him.

Father Reynolds’ was horrified when he realized what Father Gregory was confessing to. That he had sent the three people to kill their parishioners. The spirit readily spoke of how he had given those people a chance to find redemption because he had received the word of God.

Father Gregory turned to Sam and said, “Some people need redemption, don’t they, Sam?”

Sam’s guilt and dread of what he could become, of being a chosen one of a demon for some nefarious unknown purpose poured through him. The shame, that Sam carried and had hoped to be rid of through God, blossomed once more as his hopes dashed before him.

Father Reynolds told the younger priest that he was misguided, that what he was doing was vengeance and not the work of God. He tried to convince the spirit that he was not an angel, saying that men cannot be angels.

The spirit became confused. He began to listen as Father Reynolds explained that “Thou shalt not kill” was the true word of God, not what he had been having these people do.

***************************************************************************************************************************************************

Dean followed the couple, maintaining as little distance as was safe, to not be noticed, but still be able to keep them in his sight. As careful as he had been, he momentarily lost them after they took a corner. He drove slowly around the area until he found an alleyway and saw the car he had been following. It had stopped and Dean pulled up behind it with Baby’s lights off. As soon as he opened his door he could see the struggle happening in the front seat of the other car. He moved quickly towards it and could hear the woman’s screams coming from inside. 

Dean busted the driver’s side window, punched the assailant, and then slammed his head into the steering wheel hard enough to knock him out. Dean reached into the car through the broken window to release the locks so that the girl could get out. She immediately opened her door, and jumped out, crying hysterically. Dean threw himself across the hood of the car grabbing the woman asking her if she was okay. As she assured him she was and thanking God in the process, the car started and the guy drove off.

Dean cursed and told the girl to call 911. He hated leaving her like that but he had to stop the guy. A man like that would try again if he wasn’t stopped somehow. Dean ran to Baby and took off after the guy.

***************************************************************************************************************************************************

Sam asked Father Gregory to let them help him. He refused. But then Father Reynolds told him it was time to be at peace, begging the spirit to let the priest give him last rights. The spirit finally acquiesced. As the priest spoke the words of the rite, the spirit began to flash in and out. He bent down on his knees and allowed the priest to finish the last rites. As Father Reynolds said the last of the prayer, the spirit turned back into the blinding white image that Sam had first seen in the hallway and then disappeared.

***************************************************************************************************************************************************

Dean floored Baby until he caught up with the attacker’s car. He wanted to pull up beside the other car, but the side street was too narrow. Both vehicles fishtailed onto a wider two lane but had to swerve onto a field in order to avoid a Mack truck with a car hauler on the back. They whipped back out onto a main street and as they neared an intersection, a truck carrying long pipes swerved to avoid hitting a car that began to run the perpendicular stop. From the harsh angle the truck braked, a long measure of pipe fell off the truck and bounced down the street towards the oncoming cars. As both the assailant and Dean jammed on their respective brakes the pipe rammed through the windshield of the car in front of Dean. He drove slowly around the now stopped car and realized the pipe had impaled the driver he had been chasing. He got out of Baby and walked over to the wreck realizing the man was now dead.

Dean was rattled by what had happened. It felt too close to some kind of divine intervention for his taste. He drove back to the motel, unsure what he would find from Sam when he got there. His brother had not been in a healthy state when he left him by the side of the road and he had heard nothing from him since. He hoped he was all right.

Dean walked slowly towards the motel from where he left Baby in the lot. His hands shook as he put the key in the lock of the room they were sharing. 

The moment he opened the door and saw Sam’s demeanor, he knew the séance must have been successful. Sam’s head was bent over the task he had set himself of packing his bag on the bed, and looked up slowly as Dean began to step into the room. 

Exhaustion and unhappiness were plain in Dean’s voice as he asked Sam, “How was your day?”

Sam continued to pack and sort his duffel, and took a deep breath letting out a sad sigh before he finally admitted quietly, “You were right.”

The scratchy quality of the tone and the heaviness of his energy broke Dean’s heart. He took no joy from hearing the words that, only hours earlier, he would have gladly gloated around. Dean’s face held intense concern for his brother as he listened when Sam continued.

“It wasn’t an angel. It was Gregory.” Sam couldn’t quite meet Dean’s eyes as he spoke. 

It was as if something was broken in his brother, and it hurt Dean more than he wanted to look at. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his flask. He took a long swig before offering it to Sam who finally met his eyes only to look away as he drank deeply from the offered alcohol.

Dean could feel the despair flowing off of Sam. It took every ounce of power he had not to walk the short distance between them and take his taller brother in his arms and hold him, and try to take his pain away.

Dean ran his hand over his own mouth and watched in silence as Sam began to open up, sharing how badly he had wanted to believe. Sam sat slowly down on the side of the bed and tears filled his eyes as he whispered, “It’s so damned hard to do this. What we do, all alone.”

Dean frowned. He wanted to hold his beloved brother, assure him that he would never be alone. That Dean would always be there to love him and adore him and take care of him and look out for him. He stood still, a sentinel bearing Sam’s pain upon his shoulders, unable to give either of them the comfort they so desperately needed from each other.

Sam spoke about how much evil there was in the world and how he felt he could drown in it. A chill ran down Dean’s spine as Sam brought up his destiny, how worried he was about how he could end up.

Dean could take it no longer, he looked away from Sam, afraid if he spoke while his heart was so full for him that he might let something slip if he met his brother’s gaze while he was this vulnerable. He told Sam not to worry about any of that because he was watching out for him.

Sam’s eyes were still full of tears when he said, “Yeah, I know you are” in a soft breathy voice. He tried to look up at his older brother but he couldn’t maintain eye contact because it made the tears threaten to create a downpour. He was barely holding himself together as it was.

But then as he finished his thought, “But you’re just one person,” it was as if the brothers couldn’t keep from finding each others’ eyes, needing to be there while one confessed and the other bore witness.

“And I needed to think there was something else watching too, ya know.” Sam’s eyes caught Dean’s and held his gaze intently. 

Sam’s embarrassment grew, but he couldn’t stop his mouth from continuing, “some higher power,” he laughed self consciously, “some greater good.” His eyes kept finding Dean’s hoping to see understanding, and acceptance and not the mocking tone Dean had taken earlier.

He dropped his eyes away from the man he loved because he couldn’t stand to say the next part while facing what might come in his beloved’s countenance, “And that maybe…”

Dean’s heart was breaking for his brother, the pain that he was sharing, the fear and self doubt was plain. His voice was soft with love and understanding as he asked, “Maybe what?”

Tears filled Sam’s eyes again, and he had to take a couple of breaths and swallow before he could get out the last of it, unable to meet Dean’s eyes for this part, because of the shame filling his soul. “Maybe I could be saved.”

Dean had watched, his eyes never wavering from Sam during the last few moments, but that was too much. He took a deep breath and couldn’t form words. The thought that this man, the one person in this entire world that he lived for, would die for, couldn’t live without, could possibly believe that he might not be worth saving, threatened to shatter the already strained wall Dean was holding up between them. He looked away from Sam down at the floor. Trying to come up with anything to say that might ease Sam’s suffering. But all Dean could think about was how much he hated John in that moment, hated himself for confessing what John had said about Sam. It was their fault that Sam felt that way about himself. Dean had to hold it together, couldn’t fail Sam in this moment.

Sam finally looked up at his brother, looking for his brother to confirm that he could be saved, that he was not the monster he believed himself to be. Unfortunately, that was the exact moment that Dean was having his own internal crisis. Sam was so caught up in believing he was bad, that he thought the despair playing out over Dean’s countenance was proof that Dean thought so too. He didn’t understand how badly Dean wanted to rip the room apart, wanted to rail against everything causing Sam to hurt and fear and believe himself unworthy. 

Sam was crushed, by his brother’s inability to meet his eyes, feeling certain it meant Dean wasn’t sure he could be saved after all. Sam didn’t know what to do, felt himself on the edge of breaking. Instead, he took a deep breath and shoved it all down, laughing outwardly at himself and launched into an explanation of how he had just allowed all that mess to cloud his judgment and that Dean had been right about the case and they had to just trust what they knew about all this. His tone changed and he spoke a little too fast trying to convince himself as much as Dean.

Dean’s countenance was still dark, so many thoughts rushed through his mind, wanting to hold Sam, brush his hair back and kiss his love into him. But he couldn’t do any of that, he didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to assure Sam that he knew to the depths of his soul that Sam could not ever be dark. He wanted to say that Sam was the best man Dean had ever known, but knew if he started down that path, he didn’t trust himself enough to not go too far. So he took a deep breath and said what he hoped would give Sam back some of the faith Dean felt he had stolen from him on this case.

He told Sam about how Father Gregory’s spirit had been right about the guy he had chased. He told him he was dead and that he didn’t know how it happened but that the way it had gone down seemed like maybe God’s will. It hurt Dean to say it. It scared Dean to say it. He had been shaken since the accident had happened.

He had lived his entire life without a belief in a higher power, let alone actually believing in God. With what they do every day, with all the evil they have witnessed, Dean had always been too pissed about his mom’s death, and now with finding out about whatever the demon had done to Sam, to believe in a God that could allow all that to happen.

All the pain he was carrying from their mom and dad’s loss, all the pain Sam had just laid at Dean’s feet that Dean was now carrying on his shoulders too, the thought that maybe there might be some higher power in the world, just that possibility was too confusing, too overwhelming, small tears began to form in his eyes as he looked back over at Sam. 

His statement had stolen Sam’s breath, had brought fresh tears back to his hazel eyes. Dean watched as Sam took a hard swallow at the confession.

They sat in silence for a while longer, neither really knowing what to say to the other.

**Author's Note:**

> Holy mackerel you guys! This one kicked me in the balls, which I don't have, and yet I felt all the way up into my stomach. I have always loved this episode so I was really looking forward to writing it. However once I started, all the stuff that is going on in Season 15 started clouding the story for me. It put all that Sam and Dean were going through about God and divine intervention into an entirely different perspective and made me hurt and angst over it all. I don't feel this is my best work by far and it was really bitter for me to get through. I hate that what is going on now with the show is really affecting my ability to enjoy the early seasons. I am very resentful over it. I hope it doesn't spoil my WCG for you guys or taint your enjoyment.
> 
> On a lighter note, the last few minutes of the episode was so beautiful between Sam and Dean. Once again Jensen and Jared can speak volumes without words and I will forever be in awe of their talent, especially when they are on screen together.
> 
> Also I was shocked to hear Knockin' on Heaven's Door in the last scene. I had no memory of that being played in any episodes before Dark Side of the Moon. It really turned up the feels in me that were already at an 11. You guys who follow my stories know how much that song and scene in Dark Side of the Moon means to me, since it is a scene I have written about repeatedly. So I was floored that I didn't remember the song being in this episode.
> 
> Anyhoo, I am glad it didn't take a year for me to produce this story for you all like it did the last one. I hope that is a sign that maybe I can write more consistently. I love you all and can't tell you how much your kudos and comments keep me going.


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